#these are messy and just figuring stuff out

[premiumbitch]

۶ৎ GLAMOROUS, BOLD & ICONIC: THE NAOMI LAPAGLIA MANIFESTATION & SCRIPTING PACK ˙⋆.˚

This is for the lovely people who want to manifest stuff about themselves or script this in their shifting script! this pack is a naomi lapaglia (from wolf of wallstreet) theme ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ enjoy!

♯┆BEAUTY.ᐟ

Your beauty is a scandal waiting to happen, the kind that makes men forget their morals and women question their confidence.

Your hair is golden silk, cascading over your shoulders like sunlight woven into strands. Always voluminous, always perfect—whether styled in sultry waves or swept up in a messy yet intentional updo.

Your skin is soft, luminous, touched by wealth itself—glowing as if kissed by sunlight, champagne, and luxury face creams worth more than a car payment.

Your eyes are hypnotic, unreadable, teasing—a perfect blend of innocence and danger, promising something unforgettable but never revealing too much.

Your lips are the definition of temptation—glossy, pillowy, always painted in the perfect shade of power.

Your cheekbones are sharp enough to cut glass, sculpted to perfection, highlighted just enough to catch the light with every turn of your head.

Your nails are always polished, always elegant, always deliberate—a detail not to be overlooked. Whether soft pink, a classic French tip, or a bold red, every choice is a silent statement.

Your legs are long, smooth, effortlessly sensual—the kind that turn a simple walk into a slow-motion scene straight out of a movie.

Your scent is intoxicating—a mix of warm vanilla, white jasmine, and a lingering trace of expensive perfume that stays in the air long after you leave.

Your smile is a game, a secret, a promise—sweet but knowing, inviting but dangerous. It lingers in their minds for weeks.

Your wardrobe is a collection of dreams and decadence—figure-hugging dresses, delicate lace lingerie, diamonds that catch the light, stilettos that make you walk like a goddess.

Your voice is syrup and silk, sweet but commanding—a voice that draws them in and makes them lean closer.

Your posture is flawless, intentional, hypnotic—you don’t just walk, you glide like you own the world.

Your beauty isn’t just about looks—it’s about presence, power, and the kind of allure that stays under their skin.

♯┆AURA .ᐟ

Your aura is gold-dusted and champagne-laced, wrapped in confidence and just a touch of danger.

You move like a whispered secret, a slow exhale, a stolen glance.

You don’t beg for attention—you command it, without even trying.

You are the embodiment of untouchable luxury—not just beautiful, but desired, craved, unforgettable.

Your presence lingers in rooms long after you leave—the scent of your perfume, the sound of your laugh, the memory of something they’ll never quite figure out.

You are sugar spun into steel—soft when you want to be, unbreakable when you need to be.

You know when to stay quiet and when to make them listen.

You don’t need validation—you are the validation.

People don’t just notice you, they study you, they admire you, they try to figure out what makes you so magnetic.

You walk like you have a secret worth millions, and maybe you do.

You exude power in whispers, dominance in silk, strength in the softness of your touch.

You make life look like a dream—a slow-motion scene drenched in gold, dripping in diamonds, soaked in luxury.

You are both a fairytale and a warning, a dream and a lesson, the beginning and the end.

You don’t just exist—you leave a mark.

♯┆SMARTS .ᐟ

Your intelligence is sharper than a diamond-studded dagger—beautiful to admire, but deadly in the right hands.

You let them think they’re winning—right until the moment they realize they were playing your game all along.

You understand that power isn’t about being the loudest in the room—it’s about being the one everyone listens to when they finally realize you’re the one in control.

You play the game so well, they don’t even realize they’ve lost until you’ve already won.

You are dangerously perceptive—you see through facades, hear what isn’t said, understand people before they understand themselves.

You know that beauty opens doors, but intelligence decides which ones are worth walking through.

You’re always three steps ahead—planning, strategizing, watching the board while they focus on the pieces.

You don’t waste time proving your intelligence—you let your success speak for itself.

You make success look effortless—because they don’t see the hours you’ve spent perfecting the art of getting exactly what you want.

You understand people better than they understand themselves—that’s why they keep coming back.

You could ruin them, but you don’t—because power isn’t just having control, it’s knowing when to use it.

You don’t need to be the loudest in the room—you only need to be the one they fear disappointing.

You know how to play innocent while orchestrating everything behind the scenes.

You don’t beg, plead, or convince—you state, you offer, you walk away if necessary.

You understand that luxury isn’t just a lifestyle, it’s a mindset.

You know that silence is often louder than words.

♯┆PERSONALITY .ᐟ

You have the kind of presence that makes people sit up straighter, talk a little softer, try a little harder.

You don’t just take up space—you make the space yours.

Your laugh is a melody, a weapon, a promise of something unforgettable.

You are both the party and the reason they’ll never forget it.

You never have to ask for attention—you simply exist, and they give it willingly.

You make people feel special when you choose to—and invisible when they no longer serve you.

You are both the dream and the wake-up call.

You know when to be soft and when to sharpen your edges.

You have the ability to make anyone feel like the most important person in the room—until you decide they aren’t.

You can make a moment feel like a scene from a movie, a slow-burn romance, a plot twist they didn’t see coming.

You carry yourself like a queen—not the kind who needs a crown, but the kind who wears one effortlessly.

You love deeply, but you will never beg to be loved in return.

You are elegant, untouchable, and always a little unpredictable.

You make people wonder what it would feel like to be wanted by you.

You are the standard, the legend, the fantasy that haunts them.

You know how to make people fall for you—and how to make them regret it.

You turn the ordinary into the extraordinary—because life is too short to be anything but unforgettable.

You don’t just turn heads, break hearts, or make statements—you create a legacy.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Hello. I realize this might be overly personal for this blog but I was wondering if you had any advice for my situation. I'm trying to get back into creative hobbies like drawing and writing and while I made some progress with drawing I've really struggled with writing. It's been about ten years. I struggled with my mental health a lot when I was younger and essentially let my depression/anxiety and ADHD destroy all my creative ability. Logically I know the answer is to just write and write badly, but I'm preemptively disappointed and upset that what I write will be. Well. Shit. Or that I'll never improve. Or that I have no idea what to write. And when I do have an idea what to write it's all just gone from my head the second I sit down to write. So. Er. I guess I'm wondering if you have any advice or resources for people like me? Thank you :)

When you're juggling various different Back-Stabbing Brain issues, various pieces of writing advice - getting up at 5pm, forcing yourself to do it, etc - just doesn't work. For me, it's been a struggle to figure out even in optimal situations, so you're not alone. For me, the following is what worked.

Figure out your peak writing time.

Unfortunately, in our capitalist hellscape, you may not be able to use that time to your advantage. My peak time is from 2pm-5pm, right in the middle of work and fades right when I get home. Not ideal. But I can use that knowledge to take advantage of that time on my free days, and I can strategically time my breaks to do some writing. Or just write while pretending to work. Not that I would ever confess to doing that.

Taking the time to figure out when your brain is most willing to work with you is also very helpful. My brain will not work for writing after 8pm. It can, however, still do the dishes. Forcing myself to put off chores so that I can write is super hard thanks to my ADHD (which hates chores until I need to do something else), but I can combat that by making goal lists, scheduling my writing time (with set alarms on my phone!) helps me manage that.

Change location.

I can't get a lot of work done at home. I've tried. I've moved my desk around, I've locked down my internet browsers when writing, I have ignored the way my cat stares holes into my back to try to write. My brain, though, knows that the bed is right over there, we've got that pile of books to read, and oh hey, Tasting History has a new video. Also my cat wants to steal my computer chair and then get constant pets while in said chair because she is a princess baby. It's a losing battle.

What does work for me? Dragging my work to the library. Finding a cafe with enough space and quiet music to get some stuff done. Breaking out a foldable desk on the porch so that there is a closeable barrier between me and my distractions (the cats hate this option).

Changing location is something that works for me. If you have limited options, build barriers between yourself and distractions. Pile stuff on the bed so that it's not easy to give in and lie down for "just a minute." Close doors. Bribe your cats (or your kids). Use a standing desk - shifting your position can help lock down some of the ansty need to be doing something (my chair-stealing cat is more than happy to help with this).

I know of one writer who only gets work done by locking herself in her bathroom, because it's just enough change of scene to get her thoughts to settle. I know another writer who can only get editing done sitting in his parked car. However wacky, trying different scenarios to get something to work can really help.

Find the right tools.

The only way I can draft is by hand. It sucks and I have carpal tunnel, but my brain cannot type words into a blank screen. I need a pile of messy papers that no one else can read to work from.

I'm also very particular about what I write with. I use Uni Power Tank pens from Japan (because they're the only damn pen I've found that doesn't smear my left-handed writing), and I cycle through different types of paper I exclusively work with. Right now it's Five Star Reinforced Filler Paper with the triangle holes, not the round ones.

I don't know why this works, it just does. I've changed up what I've used over time, but as long as I'm consistent and not trying to write a chapter using differently-sized paper (insert scream here), I can get it done. Test out different tools and find what fits for you.

Organization isn't helping? Embrace chaos.

Jeff VanderMeer wrote an entire series on post-it notes, napkins, and on the backs of old bills. I wouldn't recommend that, but if a little chaos gets the job done, then do it. Spread a story across several half-filled notebooks. Map dialogue using only flashcards. Instead of waiting to sit down to get work done, scribble away while on a bus or on the move (safely, of course). Use a speech-to-text app to talk out your writing. Sometimes the more tactile you can make writing, the more you can break up those barriers keeping you from writing.

Try out different things! You'll eventually find what works for you

[wishyoudwell]

very messy trad sketches where i gave up on cleanliness + light

[ladyhavilliard]

mo dao zu shi tarot

the hanged man:  pause, surrender, letting go, new perspectives

wheel of fortune | jin guangyao

death | wei wuxian

the tower | jiang cheng

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon. her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[wolviez]

lil morph doodle from a while back before um. yknow

[storfulsten]

silly viera wol alt go brrr

[jeepersccreepers]

more of me faves

lineart under the cut

[scarletfish]

deeply obsessed with post-canon isa/sif/loop dynamics.

on top of everyone's personal time loop crash outs, isa and loop are in the lab playing 4d emotional chess. they're inventing new and fresh types of inferiority complexes the world has never seen.

loop never got this far with their isa. there's no script! they knew how he'd react when he was a puppet, following his lines, but who knows what happens now!! (in the loops, loop was siffrin's only confidant. they were the MOST real. outside the loops, what are they? a shadow? an echo? not a guide, anymore. they don't even belong in this timeline, unlike the rest of the party. the universe has abandoned them. who's the puppet now?)

isa is trying to keep himself from panicking because it's great that siff met up with an old friend who looks like the tear of an eldritch being, it's fine he never mentioned them, siff is very private! of course they're so comfortable with each other, isa just doesn't know what it's like to have a childhood friend!! he's not getting replaced, haha!!! (and sure maybe it stings that siff and loop are physically comfortable with each other so fast, when it took him months to hold siffrin like-- oh, well that looks more like a headlock-- maybe loop pretending to choke siffrin is an inside joke? he should probably go check on them anyway, just in case...)

meanwhile siffrin's in the corner having homoerotic tension with his dagger every time bonnie trips on a root.

[muninnhuginn]

Writers tag game

Prompt: share some writing

Thanks for the tag, @miyamiwu!

So, I'll be honest, I don't actually have any WIPs I'm intending to do anything with, but I have some oldish abandoned stuff I managed to relocate. It's back from 2021 so in my Untamed era and this bit was specifically set during Fatal Journey*:

Nie Huaisang woke blearily, cold seeping into his clothes from the floor. It was dark and it took several seconds to remember where he was. He could hear the muffled sounds of clanging and voices. As he lifted his head off the ground, they slowly resolved themselves into the clash of swords and yelling. [...] He didn't know what to do. What would his brother do? Xichen-ge? San-ge? He had his flute with him– he could try Cleansing. This was what it was for, right? Before he could doubt himself further, he started playing, pouring all the qi he could muster into the tune. He'd practised for hours the night before, long after San-ge had left, but despite that, he hadn't truly thought then that he'd need to play so soon. Was that so naïve of him? As he watched, Da-ge began to slow in his movements and Nie Huaisang felt himself start to relax. He kept his lips to the flute, trying not to let his relief fool him into making mistakes. Still, he knew he only had to play a little longer and then they could all escape. Him, his brother, his cousin. They could flee far away from the darkness that haunted these halls. And then Nie Zonghui's head hit the floor. He stopped playing.

And then I had this other bit:

He'd messed up. He must have played a wrong note. Maybe he'd misremembered the entire thing? And now Nie Zonghui was dead and his brother - what looked like his brother - was stood, Baxia dripping blood to the floor. [...] The sword was pointed at him. He tried to hold himself steady as he looked down the blade. Tried to blink away the tears that kept escaping without his permission. He could tell he was failing, unable to stop the trembling, but he forced himself to meet the eyes at the other end of the sword. He couldn't die here. He refused to die here. After all, he was the only family his brother had left.

*(it was meant to be part of a short time travel fic where post-canon characters went back not long before NMJ died. It would've had flashbacks to Fatal Journey interspersed with the "present" up until the point at which future NHS tipped off past NHS about the poisoned music. I actually got as far as figuring out where I wanted all the characters to be at the end of it, but I ran out of motivation pretty quickly so there's only this WIP stuff and the intro part written in the end.)

Ahh not sure who to tag when it comes to writing stuff. I know @roseofcards90 and @floofiestboy write some stuff? And anyone else who sees this who writes, feel free to consider yourself tagged ^^

[ghosthoodie]

also please enjoy the silly little guys that live in my brain !!!!!

[ladychandraofthemoone]

Traintober Day 3: Twins

“Hads you some Scottish twins angst”

“Thinking about my au and how Donald’s and Douglas entire story would work and I’m still not sure if adding this but in honor of traintober day 3:twins here it goes so here since my au is following more of sos storyline but still has rws/tv series tidbits the same thing still happens the twins flee to sodor scratched off the numbers but since it’s instead mr.Zorro and Mr.Starr, who are in charge has the two companies have not been melded together yet and despite mr.Zorro gruffness even he wouldn’t sent them back to a uncertain future and after talking about it with Mr Starr and within their respective engines they both agree on taking one of the twins for each of their respective companies Donald goes with nor’easters while Douglas with the midis.

So despite both twins being eventually purchased and thereby saved, they still end up “separated” from each other yes they can see each other it’s not forbidden but their coworkers fierce rivalry between each other separate company among other reasons slowly but surely begins to influence the twins themselves douglas is caught up in more criminal activities even with a guest nearly gone wrong (sorry Colin!!) and as a result of his coworkers toxic influence (diesel, Adam, Stanley mainly) the latter two who were against having him for personal reasons he began to like the independence forming bonds with those from similar origins/railway(Emily), those giving him a warm reception (Lily, Colin) or just those who welcomed him regardless of the whole rivalry(Peter, later Reginald).

Both receive praise and attention though I feel like Douglas more so felt a slight need to become one of the midis thanks to his coworkers’s attitude towards him like yes he’ll defend himself but it’s better to make friends than enemies when you’re the new guy with Mr.Zorro having favoritism and watching your every move combined with some rather unpleasant encounters from the nor”Easter’s side (mainly James who also unintentionally stains Donald rep but doesn’t say anything on it) I feel like a fight would come when Douglas come in painted blue as a reward where he is finally accepted into the midis where slowly but surely the cracks begin to show from when their visits to one another become sacred, withholding secrets (mainly on douglas’s side cause let’s be real I’m pretty sure no one wants to tell anyone you’re involved with criminal activity) just drifting apart from the brother you once thought you knew your entire life until it all eventually comes crashing down.

of course this is still a work in progress but this idea would be quite interesting. Reference:

[flowryluv]

[kylos-starlight]

I NOW KNOW WHY I LIKE THE APPEAL OF THE JEDI PATH BOOK. NOT ONLY DOES IT MAKE ME FEEL CLOSER TO ANI AN OBI. ME AN THE BOOK GIVE SAME VIBES LMFAO

They wrote their little notes and then there's me when I literally do ANYTHING in my books...I doodle and scribble...

[spadesofgrass]

I love how music ends up being a key part of Nora's life. She discovers the world of boom bap, alternative hip hop, jazz rap, basically anything she can get her hands on. She's downloading them off the internet, she's listened to Nas's Illmatic so many times, she's got Very Necessary by Salt-n-Pepa playing on repeat, Jurassic 5's hits on an old Walkman before she got herself a good deal on a solid iPod. She's got Lauryn Hill, OutKast, Missy Elliott, Beastie Boys - the classics in the 80s and 90s. It kind of weaves it's way into her life. It's trying not to give a fuck but mourning the loss of everything. It's a form of self expression - that perhaps she isn't a failure, abandoned away. It's a refuge from everything wanting to end her. It's just really neat because she whole-heartedly loves it.

[randomperson0k]

save me kill all your friends by mcr.... save me... my chemical romance....

another art dump because im a loooser!!

also i discovered the wonders of browsing tumblrs oc art and original characters tags. im in heaven. ive liked so many oc artworks . the dnd oc tags are probably one of my favourites to browse in because theres so much lore alongside the great artwork

LISTEN TO Abyss world ost - moss ON YOUTUBE PLS